


La Vie En Moutarde

by riverdaledreaming



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Betty doesn't have a gag reflex, Blow Jobs, Dijon France setting, Dirty Talk, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, In a Foreign Country, It's a study abroad AU, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Slow Burn, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, get your dijon jokes out of the way now, so extra romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29045613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverdaledreaming/pseuds/riverdaledreaming
Summary: Betty Cooper had just began to give up on romance in a foreign country when into her life stumbled an adorable American boy. Jughead Jones thought he was just fulfilling a requirement when he arrived for his study abroad semester, but what he got was so much more than that. Will they find love in the mustard city?
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 22
Kudos: 76





	La Vie En Moutarde

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another installment of my super self-indulgent and based-on-real-life fic series, this time tackling study abroad! This got so much longer than I planned but oh well lol. This is a solid mix of things that happened to me and things I made up, I’ll let you decide which is which ;)

As Jughead disembarked the bus at his new campus in Dijon, France, he looked around in wonder. His university back in the States was nowhere near this sprawling, and he suddenly regretted not having asked his host mom for more clear instructions on finding the right building. He spotted a pretty blonde girl walking past him and stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Hi – uh, I mean,” the boy fumbled as he looked up in concentration before continuing. “Bonjour. Uh, Où est la centre internationale s’il vous plaît?” _(Hello, where is the international center please?)_

Betty couldn’t help but laugh at the handsome boy’s halting French. He was clearly new here. Wanting to tease him a little bit, she replied, “Bonjour monsieur, l’immeuble est juste là, celui qui est plus court. Est-ce que vous voudriez une guide?” _(Hello sir, the building is just there, the shorter one. Would you like a guide?)_

The boy looked at her and blinked slowly, probably not having anticipated that someone would reply to him in French. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but instead all that came out is “Uhh…”

“Oh my God, I’m totally kidding! I’m an American too, c’mon I’ll take you there,” Betty laughed as she wrapped an arm around his elbow and began to guide him towards the correct building. “I’m Betty, I’m actually going there for orientation too, I’ve just been here since last semester. So did you just get here?”

The boy seemed startled at her abrupt switch to English but laughed as he answered her. “Yeah I just got in last weekend. I’m Jughead by the way, and clearly need a lot of practice which is why I’m here.”

Betty smiled over at him encouragingly. “Let me be the first to say: bienvenue à la ville de moutarde! ( _Welcome to the mustard city)_ It’s okay Jughead, you literally just got here. Once you get your placement you should be all good. We only take classes with other internationals anyway so no French people will be mean about your competence. If anything, you’ll be one of the better people in your class because your native language is Latin-based.”

“ _My_ class? So you won’t be in them with me?” Jughead frowned. He was really hoping his new friend with the piercing green eyes would be there with him.

Betty laughed, but not in a mean way. “No no, I’ll be in the higher classes. But don’t worry! We’ll still share _civilisation_ together, that’s the big culture lecture that we all take.” Betty paused as they reached the front stairs of the international building. “This is the main place we’ll take all our classes; we’re meeting now to do the placement test and meet all the professors and everything.”

Jughead looked at her with an alarmed expression, “The placement test is _today_??”

In her best soothing voice, Betty told him “Yeah but it’s not that big of a deal. No one really studies for it, it’s just to gauge where you’re at. If it’s too low or too high you can always switch levels.”

Jughead looked a little relieved, but Betty still decided to stop talking for now. No need to freak him out any more than she clearly already has. They get inside the international building and Betty led him to a set of seats in the main lecture hall. As they sat down, Betty realized she was still gripping his arm and blushed as she released him.

He really was handsome, Betty thought as she looked at him. He was digging a pen out of his bag and huffing as his hair kept flopping into his eyes as he bent over. Between his clear blue eyes and devilish good looks, Betty was already enamored. Last semester had been lonely: she’d tried going out with some French guys as per her professor’s recommendation (The best way to learn French is to take a lover, she had said) but it hadn’t ended well. Now here was this super cute guy who didn’t expect her to explain American politics to him. At this point in her life, that was truly the dream.

Betty was about to ask him about why he was studying abroad but was interrupted as the head of the international department began speaking from the front of the lecture hall. He was speaking pretty slow French, so Betty hoped Jughead was understanding the gist of it. Since the program attracted students from all over the world there was no way to just default to English when they didn’t understand, but Betty loved it. There were no shortcuts around the language which just made the learning that much more immersive. Of course, however, all the English-speaking students hung out and spoke in their native language with each other when not in class. And Betty could not wait to learn more about her mysterious new companion and hoped that he would take as much of a liking to her as she already had to him. Screw a French lover, she thought, this hot dummy seemed much more interesting.

Jughead took notes while the director spoke, actually surprising himself with how much French he understood. The language was only his minor and a requirement of his history major – despite the fact he just wanted a history degree to write novels and did not plan to pursue a Master’s, he still had to follow the field’s requirement of being bilingual. At least his university had changed their policy so that full ride scholars could go abroad on their scholarships, otherwise he never would’ve been able to come.

Which would’ve been a shame, because then he never would have met the lovely girl sitting to his left. Betty seemed smart, funny, and _way_ out of his league. He just hoped that she wouldn’t mind spending more time with him despite his reclusive ways. She seemed so sweet and friendly and would probably prefer to hang out with more talkative people in their program. Maybe he could convince her to help him with his French? His host mother did say to make friends with the smart people, perhaps Betty was just what he needed after all.

* * *

“Betty I am _telling_ you, you have it better in your apartment,” Jughead argued around a mouthful of chocolate croissant.

Betty rolled her eyes and kicked him under the small café table. “Do _not._ You’re saying you don’t love having someone else cook all your dinners? A conversation partner that won’t give you a hard time?”

Jughead considered that for a moment as he swallowed the bite of croissant. “True, but that conversation partner never wants to even talk to me, she just turns on the TV to _Ile de la Tentation_ and then blows me off. Then she gives me a hard time for not going out more, even though we’re both introverts!”

Betty laughed good-naturedly. “Oh my god, she watches _Ile de la Tentation_? Isn’t it just about couples cheating on each other on a desert island?”

“It is indeed Betts. It’s both so dumb and so fascinating.”

They both laugh at the ridiculousness of French TV programs. Jughead had been in Dijon for about a month now, so he was beginning to get the hang of things. Almost every day after classes were finished, he and Betty would take the tram downtown and sit in a café for hours, working on homework and just laughing and chatting. Jughead was finding that these were the best moments of his time here, just smiling at Betty over delicious French coffee and pastries.

The sound of American accents filtering through the small café caused both their heads to turn towards the door. There in the doorway, stood two others in their international program: Bret and Donna. They both came from some small university in the States and mostly stuck to themselves instead of mingling with the other students.

The pair spotted Betty and Jughead and approached their table. “Hey guys, mind if we join you?” Donna asked superfluously, as she and Bret had already pulled an empty table and chairs next to theirs and settled down.

“Uh…yeah go ahead,” Betty said tonelessly, rolling her eyes to Jughead when Donna and Bret weren’t looking, making him work to suppress a smile.

Donna and Bret made themselves at home, placing their orders with the waitress in halting French. Jughead noted that he had already begun feeling more comfortable speaking French around town; the fact that their program was in a smaller city than somewhere like Paris really made it necessary to use the language when talking to literally anyone. He had also made friends with some nice students in his classes from Korea, where their only common language was French. It was really amazing how far he’d already come.

Jughead’s attention was brought back to the table by Donna’s insistent tone. “I implore you Betty, just log on and see what’s up. French guys find American girls really hot and you’d definitely get scooped right up.” Donna was excitedly explaining to Betty’s exasperation.

“What’s going on?” Jughead asked.

Betty didn’t hide her eyeroll this time. “Donna wants me to get on French Tinder.”

Jughead couldn’t explain the roil of jealousy that went through him, but he grit his teeth at the idea of Betty hooking up with someone else. “Oh. Um…are you?”

Betty flushed bright red. “I um…don’t know that I’m really looking for someone right now…” she tried to explain. What Betty really wanted to say was that she had her eye on someone else but she couldn’t say that without having to explain that the man in question was sitting across from her.

Jughead’s face fell. Betty wasn’t looking for a relationship, which meant he would probably be shot down if he asked her out. He tried to reign in his emotions and just nodded, returning to his pastries and stuffing a raspberry treat into his mouth to avoid having to say anything else.

“Ugh that’s too damn bad Betty, from what you told me about your gag reflex I just know you’d be getting so much good French dick.” Donna said flippantly, swiping through her own Tinder app.

Jughead choked on his pastry, coughing as he processed that information. “Um, what _about_ your gag reflex, Betty?”

Betty flushed again. “That I…you know don’t have one?”

Jughead could barely keep his jaw off the floor. This knowledge inspired all sorts of thoughts he should decidedly _not_ be having about his friend. Dirty thoughts, like how much of his own dick could she take down her tight throat.

“What about you, Jughead? Ever thought of going on French Tinder?” Bret drawled, he too lofting up his phone with the Tinder app pulled up. “French chicks really love our accents, I can’t explain it.”

Jughead laughed awkwardly. “Uhh yeah not really my scene…”

“But it totally is, you have a bondage kink don’t you? Foreign girls would eat that right up!”

Jughead paled, his eyes darting over to Betty who’s face currently resembled that of a fish. “Um…I don’t…”

“Aww don’t be shy now, we’re all friends here,” Donna chimed in, smirking at the chaos she and Bret had caused. “Bret said he saw the photos on your camera roll, it’s totally not a big deal.”

Jughead’s face flooded with color. He had forgotten about those when he had let Bret scroll through his photography portfolio on his phone. “Um…”

“Oh look!” Betty exclaimed. “It’s already 6pm. I ah…better get going,” Betty began to collect her things, stuffing them haphazardly into her bag.

“Do you want me to walk you home, Betts?” Jughead rasped. His throat felt dry, from either the pastries he had shoved down his gullet or from Betty knowing his kinks. Probably both.

“No! I mean, no that’s okay Jug, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Betty blushed, tugging her bag over her shoulder as she smiled at Jughead.

He nodded dejectedly, making Betty feel guilty as she headed outside. She couldn’t tell him that the reason she needed to be alone was she needed to cool off from the new revelation about Jughead. He had a bondage kink? She wondered if he would tie her up, maybe use his belt to bind her hands together. Or maybe he would tie down all her limbs to his bed, pushing his face between her thighs and forcing her to come over and-

Betty stopped her train of thought. She could _not_ go there with Jughead, he was her friend! But he seemed to react to Donna’s bomb about Betty’s…abilities in the bedroom. Maybe he had feelings for her too? Betty tried to crush that nugget of hope; they were just friends.

That didn’t stop Betty from touching herself later that night though, imagining what it would feel like to be tied down beneath him, completely at his mercy. When she came, it was with a soft cry of his name.

There was no way for her to know that across Dijon, Jughead was fisting himself to similar fantasies, her own name passing his lips when his body jolted with his own release.

* * *

It wasn’t until Betty and Jughead were tipsy in the international residence that something finally snapped.

Neither of them lived in the residence; Betty preferred a full kitchen to the sad hotplate the residence offered and Jughead’s program organized host families for their students. But they were going out to a discothèque club with the other Anglophones and they all lived there. So thus they found themselves taking shots of French tequila in Bret’s room as they prepared to go out.

Jughead couldn’t stop starting at Betty’s chest. Usually he had the awareness and the self-control not to, but with his low alcohol tolerance he found himself quickly entranced by the way her breasts seemed to jiggle slightly in her lowcut dress as she moved.

Jughead shook his head in attempt to clear it. He really needed to slow down; he couldn’t jeopardize his friendship with Betty. They had been friends for three months now, and there was only one and a half more months in their program. But a part of him hoped, what if she liked him back?

Just as he decided he was finally going to confess his feelings to Betty, Bret hollered at the group assembled in his room. “Let’s hit the club, guys!”

Jughead groaned as he was shepherded out of the residence hall and onto a tram headed downtown. All the tipsy Americans wobbled as they held onto railings, laughing raucously as they traveled. Jughead huffed as the group kept him parted from Betty, who was across the tram car sandwiched between two girls who were talking animatedly.

Betty tried to look interested as Joan prattled on about her new French boyfriend, but it was difficult to when her thoughts kept drifting back to Jughead. She glanced up to find him frowning across the way, swaying ever so slightly as he gripped the bar above his head. His arm flexed and Betty inhaled sharply. He was wearing short sleeves for once, his flannel tied around his waist and giving Betty unobstructed access to ogle his strong arms.

Betty self-consciously adjusted her top, pulling it ever so slightly lower. She hoped he liked her dress; it showed more skin than she usually liked to, but she was hoping to finally make a move on him tonight and she needed all the confidence she could get.

The group piled out of the tram when they arrived at Place de la République and moved towards the club in question, _Rhumerie Jamaïque._ Betty hadn’t yet visited, but Bret and Donna had said that it was too expensive to buy drinks there, hence the pregame.

When they went inside, Betty looked around in awe. It was a very classy bar with plush carpets and couches. Just as she was about to suggest that they stay in this mellow space, she was pushed to the stairwell on the left side, from which she could hear the pounding bass and club music from below.

She groaned. Betty would much prefer the quiet bar. But just before she began to descend the stairs, someone yanked her back up by the elbow. She gasped as her back collided with someone’s chest.

“You wanna just stay up here?” A soft voice whispered in her ear, making a shiver roll down her spine. It was Jughead, who had read her mind, apparently.

She heaved a sigh as she nodded and allowed him to pull her away from their rowdy group. He found them a quiet booth near the back, urging her to slide in first with a hand on her shoulder that sent a zap of electricity through her.

It seemed like they had dropped all pretense as Jughead sat directly beside her, their thighs pressing together. Betty inhaled sharply as Jughead leaned in close to whisper in her ear over the music, “Better?”

She gulped, turning her head to meet his gaze as she nodded. She couldn’t help but notice how close their lips were, if she just leaned in a little bit-

The pair sprung apart at the sound of a waitress calling for their attention. “Vous voulez boire quelque choses ?” _(Would you like something to drink?)_

Betty was the first to recover her wits. “Oui…deux verres du vin blanc maison s’il vous plait” _(Yes, two glasses of the house white wine please.)_

The waitress nodded, smirking at the young couple as she walked away.

Betty took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She was still feeling the effects of the drinks from earlier but knew another glass might give her the final push she needed.

It wasn’t long before the waitress returned with their glasses, placing them deftly on Betty and Jughead’s table.

Once she had left, Jughead picked up his glass, holding it out to Betty for a toast. “Shall we?”

Betty picked up hers as well, lofting it up as she held Jughead’s gaze. “Santé,” she said.

Jughead echoed the sentiment, gently clinking their glasses together before taking a sip. The pair held eye contact through the entire exchange.

“What’s the deal with the holding eye contact during a toast tradition anyway?” Jughead asked with a forced laugh, trying to break the tension that had settled over their table.

“Well, I’m not sure why but the French say if you break it you get seven years of bad sex,” Betty told him, biting her lip as she spoke, her green eyes enchanting him.

“Oh…well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Jughead spoke softly, leaning in even closer to Betty in the enclosed space, holding her gaze in a way that made fire lick up her spine.

Betty nodded, biting her lip again. She leaned in closer too, their lips now just millimeters apart.

Jughead could feel her soft breathing on his face with how close they were. Finally giving into what he’s wanted to do for the last three months, he reached a hand up to cup her cheek, reveling in the sweet sigh she released as he did so.

He wasn’t sure who finally connected their lips, maybe they met in the middle. But their eyes fluttered closed at last, their kiss soft and full of unvoiced emotion.

Betty leaned into Jughead’s hand, bringing her own up to his shoulder and pulling him in closer to her. The kiss deepened as she opened her mouth to him, moaning quietly as his tongue stroked against hers tenderly.

Betty felt like she should’ve been self-conscious doing this in a public place, but she couldn’t seem to drag herself away from Jughead. Besides, French people didn’t have the same modesty that Americans did when it came to PDA.

It was Jughead who eventually pulled away, sighing contentedly as his eyes reopened. He smiled at Betty’s dazed expression; her lips looked swollen from their eager kisses.

“What do you say we finish these and get out of here?” Betty whispered, nuzzling her nose against Jughead’s as he smiled.

“Sounds perfect, Betts.” Jughead pulled his hand away from her cheek, settling it instead on her thigh and giving it a squeeze that made her inhale sharply.

After several more minutes of giggling and touching, they finished their wine and paid at the bar before heading out to Betty’s downtown apartment.

Betty could barely open her door; Jughead was distracting her with kisses down her exposed neck, his hands settled on her hips. Once she finally got the door unlocked, the couple laughed as they tumbled inside.

Jughead kicked her door shut, unable to take his hands off Betty. He turned her around by her waist, pulling her in for another searing kiss.

Betty moaned into his mouth, her own hands coming up to tug his hair. She couldn’t get enough of him; she’d desired him for such a long time.

As if he could read her thoughts, he pulled away slightly to whisper, “I’ve wanted you for so long, Betty.”

Betty hummed contentedly against his mouth. “Me too, I’ve been wondering about that bondage kink that Bret mentioned,” She teased boldly.

Jughead’s cheeks pinkened slightly. “Um yeah…look he was just trying to get a rise out of me so we don’t really have to do that…”

“Don’t have to?” Betty quirked an eyebrow at him. “I’ve thought about it more than I care to admit, Juggie.”

Jughead groaned, squeezing Betty’s hips. “Fuck, Betts. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your gag reflex either…”

Betty flushed, looking down at her feet.

Jughead placed a finger under her chin, pulling her face back up. “Hey, it’s me. No shame,” He whispered, running his nose down her cheek in a reassuring gesture.

Betty sighed, nodding against him. She felt like her heart was about to pound out of her chest with both excitement and nervousness, but he was right: it’s _Jughead._

Betty led Jughead towards her bedroom, illuminating her bedside lamp to cast a soft glow around the room. She looked up at him, smiling as she untied his flannel from around his waist and let it fall to the floor.

They helped each other undress, taking their time as they revealed more skin. When they were finally naked, Betty reached down for Jughead’s discarded belt, holding it out to him with a questioning look.

He smirked as he took it from her. “Turn around then baby, hands behind your back.”

Betty smiled, turning around giddily. She inhaled sharply as she felt Jughead wrap the leather around her wrists. He kissed her bare shoulder as he fastened the belt closed, making her moan as he pressed his hard length against her backside.

“Just let me know if you wanna stop, okay Betts?” He whispered into her neck.

Betty nodded, turning back to face him. She held his gaze as she moved to the foot of her bed, kneeling on it.

Jughead groaned as she licked her full, pink lips. It was clear what she wanted as her gaze flicked down to his crotch.

Giving into her at last, Jughead stepped forward to align his cock with Betty’s plump mouth. She eagerly opened her mouth and sucked the head into her mouth, looking up at him with wide doe eyes.

“Fuck Betty,” Jughead moaned, bringing a hand up to cradle the back of her neck, more to anchor himself than anything else. He let her set the pace she wanted, bobbing her head as she held his gaze.

Betty reveled in Jughead’s sounds above her; she felt drunk on his pleasure. She hollowed out her cheeks as she began to take him deeper, easing his tip back into her throat. She swallowed around him, making him swear as she tightened her hold on him.

“God damnit baby, you like choking yourself on my cock?” Jughead growled, unable to restrain the dirty thoughts that crossed his brain.

Betty hummed with him in her throat, her thighs squeezing together at his words. Jughead quirked a brow at that, tightening his hold on her neck.

“You’re such a good girl taking me down your throat Betty, so good,” Jughead praised, Betty bobbing her head even more enthusiastically. He ignored the warning signs in his brain that his orgasm was approaching, instead wanting to tease her more with his words. “Such a dirty girl, having no gag reflex. Your mouth is so warm around my cock, can’t wait to see what your pussy feels like.”

Betty garbled around his length, feeling her pussy clench in desperation. She wanted so badly to reach a hand down to her clit, but the belt kept her hands securely behind her back. But the lack of power was making her even hornier.

“Betty you have to pull off now, I’m gonna come,” Jughead said through gritted teeth, his grip on her neck trying to pull her mouth off him futilely as Betty instead surged forward, taking his entire length into her throat as she moaned.

Jughead swore, the vibrations from her mouth finally setting him off. He came forcefully down Betty’s throat, pulling back as it tapered off as not to choke her with his spend.

He pulled free from her mouth with a soft, wet pop, kneeling to wipe her mouth clean with his thumb. “Betty that was incredible,” he whispered, looking into her eyes reverently.

Jughead stood up, gently helping Betty ease back on her bed, scooting her up to rest against the pillows.

Betty let out a soft _oof_ as she settled on her back, her hands still secured behind her.

“Hands still good?” Jughead asked her, meeting her gaze as his hands parted her thighs, his body settling between them. Betty inhaled sharply at feeling his large palms on her sensitive skin, nodding at him as she blushed with arousal.

Jughead smiled tenderly as he stroked her smooth skin, leaning down to press a kiss to her inner thigh as she bit her lip. He adjusted her thighs over his shoulders, inhaling deeply as he nudged his nose against her wet center.

“You smell so good baby,” Jughead spoke against her, feeling her tremble from the vibrations. He smirked as her hips bucked towards his mouth, throwing her one last filthy wink before diving into her sweet pussy.

Betty moaned loudly as Jughead laved his hot tongue over her, circling her clit as she squirmed beneath him. She swore when he slipped his tongue inside her, fucking her with it gently. Her hands burned with the need to touch him.

“Juggie ohmygod that feels so good, I need – ah!” Betty was cut off with a cry when Jughead nipped her clit with his teeth, sliding a single, slender finger inside her. Betty bucked against his ministrations, so close to the edge.

Jughead reached his free hand up to fondle Betty’s breast, tweaking her nipple as he pushed a second finger into her. With one more hard suck to her clit, she was crying out as her release burst through her, her body writhing underneath his ministrations.

“Fucking beautiful,” He whispered into her pussy, working her through her orgasm as she clutched at his fingers.

Betty lost track of the time, where she was, even what her name was. When she came back to her body, Jughead was placing gentle kisses on her sweaty skin, trailing his way back up to her mouth. She moaned when he pressed his mouth to hers, feeling his length poke her belly, already hard again.

“Roll over a bit Betts, I wanna untie your hands.” Jughead instructed, Betty complying easily. Once her hands were free, she smiled as he massaged the feeling back into them. She rolled back so she was facing him, flushing at the hungry look he was giving her.

Betty brought her newly freed hands up to Jughead’s shoulders, pulling his body over hers eagerly.

Jughead laughed lightly. “Excited, are we?” He teased.

Betty smiled, pulling him down for a kiss. “I’ve been waiting for you since the moment you asked me where the international building was,” She whispered into his mouth, hooking a leg around his hip and grinding her wet center up into his erection.

Jughead groaned, rutting against her. She felt so silky and soft, he just wanted to slide right in. But the rational part of his brain was still functioning, unfortunately. “You have protection, baby?”

Betty giggled, moving her head down to bite at his shoulder playfully. “I got an IUD before I left the States, and I made my one slimy French hookup use a condom.”

He swore at that; the idea of taking her raw suddenly all he could think about. “Fuck Betts, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum.” Bracing himself on one elbow, he used his other hand to reach down and guide his dick inside her.

Betty gasped as just the head of his length popped inside her. Jughead pulled back, looking alarmed. She rushed to reassure him, “No no it’s good, it’s just so thick,” She tightened her leg wrapped around him, pulling his face to hers with a hand in his hair. “Keep going.”

Jughead breathed out, easing his length inside her more slowly this time. He looked down to see her opening up for him, moaning as she easily accepted his cock to the hilt.

Once he was all the way inside her, Jughead hiked up her other leg to wrap around him. She moaned as the adjusted position allowed him to sink in a little deeper.

“Betty you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met,” Jughead said breathlessly, beginning to rock his hips into hers slowly.

Betty gripped his shoulder and hair, her eyes finding his as Jughead looked down at her with flushed cheeks. “Same Juggie, now please fuck me hard.”

Jughead laughed at her bluntness, taking her lips in a giggly kiss as he did as she asked. Betty moaned into his mouth as her hips met his, their skin slapping together in a way that should have been lewd but just turned them on.

They continued to tease each other with soft bites here and there and snarky quips. Betty loved it; the way they could laugh and have fun but still revel in each other’s bodies.

Jughead dove a hand down to circle Betty’s clit once he felt close, swallowing her cries as she almost instantly came around him hard. Her muscles squeezing him tight as if to keep him from leaving were what made triggered his own orgasm, grunting as he fucked her through it.

They collapsed in a heap on the bed, both panting as they fought to catch their breath. Their legs tangled together as Betty lay on Jughead’s chest, her chin propped up as they continued to kiss leisurely.

“Jug?” Betty eventually whispered, “What are you doing for spring break?”

Jughead hummed as he sat up to better look at Betty. “Not sure, it’s in two weeks right?”

Betty nodded and bit her lip as she gazed into his gorgeous blue eyes. “Wanna come to Paris with me?”

Jughead’s face broke out in a grin. “Absolutely, Betts. Just you, me, and the city of love for two whole weeks? I’m so fucking sold.” He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her over him as he attacked her with kisses.

Betty laughed at his excitement, so content in this moment. “Edith Piaf sang about _la vie en rose_ , but I’d take _la vie en moutarde_ with you any day.”

Jughead laughed at that. “I couldn’t agree more,” He told her before he pulled her back in for another kiss.

Life in mustard had never tasted so sweet.

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so we got a little cheesy there at the end it’s finally finished!! I started this months ago and it feels so good to share it with you all at last. Thank you for suffering through this self-insert fantasy, I studied in Dijon and am currently living in France so this came from the heart. To see the moodboard and ask me questions about this fic or just life in France, come chat on tumblr


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